Second Chances - a Christmas Story
by GStales
Summary: Miracles happen everyday ... believe.
1. Chapter 1

A Christmas Story

Second Chances

Gunsmoke

Fan-fiction

GtSales

For my GS sister Margie ...

The autumn had been long and lovely in Kansas. The temperatures remaining pleasant, the skies so clear and blue that it seemed like a gift. The herds had come and left Dodge City taking the rowdy cowhands, poker sharks and more disreputable of the red light girls with them. Once more, the law and the Ladies Aide Society had control over morality in the former Gomorrah of the Plaines.

Perhaps because of this, the idea of talking the Marshal out of town for a little vacation had been easier than in years past. A prime opportunity presented itself when an invitation arrived from a former lawman friend of Dillon's. Ralph Bridges was marrying his long time companion and while Kitty's personal acquaintance with the man was only brief she had been entertained by endless stories of the youthful exploits of Ralph and Matt. She felt as though she knew him well.

They had left Dodge by train on December 8th and arrived on the 12th. The temperatures had been in the sixties and although Kitty had packed a trunk and several smaller carpetbags of clothing she had not felt the need to include heavier garments, concentrating more on showy dress befitting the big city.

Dillon being a practical man had stuffed his entire vacation wardrobe in two carpetbags. Kitty silently bemoaned the fact that such a handsome man had but one 'courting jacket' and that was nearly ten years old and a little snug around the waist. She decided his Christmas gift from her was going to be a good suit, she knew just the tailor to accomplish the task in record time.

So their vacation had gone. Matt, much to his chagrin, spending several mornings being measured and pinned. However, even he agreed the finished result was satisfactory and worth the effort. Kitty, not to be outdone had spent equal time on the production of a gown worthy of Dillon's appreciation.

The wedding of Ralph and Lorna had been a modest affair, both Matt and Kitty had been overdressed for their part in the ceremony and had far out shined the bride and groom. But, that was the way it usually was for even in common attire they made heads turn

With the wedding out of the way and the newlyweds off on a honeymoon. Matt and Kitty enjoyed the delights of the big city. They attended variety acts at the Emporium Opera House and plays at the Grande Theater. They dined at fine restaurants, guests of the cities famous breweries and visited the most ostentatious of the St Louis saloons. Dillon, a man with generally rugged tastes enjoyed the glimpse into the life Kitty might have had, had she not stepped off the stage at Dodge City all those years ago.

They took time for Christmas shopping; small gifts they knew their friends would appreciate. Books for Doc and Newly, a hunting knife for Festus, and a gold plated watch for Sam. They departed St Louis on the 20th of December with plans of arriving back in Dodge City on Christmas Eve.

1.

Kitty Russell stomped her foot in frustrated annoyance. "What do you mean the train isn't running?"

"Like I said lady, the bridge is out at Okauchee Falls. Train ain't gonna get through to Ford County from this part of the state 'til that's been fixed. Now, you could head North and catch the Wichita line, or South and hitch a ride on the Sante Fe, but you ain't gonna get to Dodge no other way."

The scowl on her face didn't detract from her beauty but it didn't soften her countenance any either, "How much time does that add to our travel?"

"I'd say three or four days."

Kitty straightened her spine, "What about the stage?"

Dillon shook his head, "I don't know Kitty, could be a mighty cold ride. This time of year there's always a chance of freezing rain or snow."

"But would we get home in time for Christmas?"

The man at the depot took a puff on a nasty smelling cigar before answering, "I reckon you would, provided like the Marshal says, the weather cooperates."

With all of her foot stomping, her magnificent ostrich and peacock plumed bonnet had slipped to one side. She righted it with a certain amount of vengeance,"Oh it will cooperate."

The two men looked at the red head and then at each other and almost believed if anyone had the power to control the forces of nature it would be this one.

"Stage for Dodge 'ill be leaving in two hours." He looked the fancy woman up and down. "You might want to get yourself a warm coat and some heavy boots. If'n you run into bad weather you might havta get out and push."

She gave the ticket man a finger poke to the center of his sternum, "Mister, if I have to push the coach all the way to Dodge City, it's going to get there for Christmas."

At the General Store, she purchased a man's plaid coat in heavy wool, explaining she would give it to Festus once they arrived in Dodge. She bought a pair of long underwear and thick wool socks too, gloves a wool muffler, a tin of biscuits and a pound of farmer's cheese in case they got hungry along the way. Then, because she hated the thought of being cold she bought a wool Indian blanket in vibrant colors of red, yellow and blue to drape over the pair of them. "They do have buffalo robes on the stage you know" Dillon advised with mock seriousness.

"Those flea bitten hides? I think not Cowboy, we can snuggle up just fine under this blanket."

Matt laughed at her as he carried her plunder to the stage depot. Her trunk and carpetbags along with his were waiting to be loaded on the already packed stage, for with the train to Dodge out of commission Christmas mail and packages had been piled into every free nook and cranny of the conveyance.

The air was balmy and the sun shinning most brilliantly. She felt a wave of foolishness for all of her purchases. She said almost apologetically. "Best way not to need something is to have it on hand."

Being a man with a healthy appetite for the pleasures of the body. His mind immediately went to the provocative intimate apparel she usually wore,"I can think of no good reason for you to wear long johns." He replied.

"Might be I'll need them to keep me warm."

He stuck his tongue in the side of his cheek to repress a reply that might be considered inappropriate, and she laughed out loud at the face he pulled. There were times she could read his mind easier than the pages of a book.

He knew it too, "Come on you." He said with a possessive hand to her arm.

He helped her into the coach and as she was settling herself in the seat with a mail bag beside her and another under her feet, she heard the driver remark to Matt, "Glad to have you along for the ride Marshal, got no one riding shotgun, course ain't carrying anything more valuable than Christmas letters and boxes of cookies and fruitcakes that will no doubt have gone bad by the time we get to Dodge. Name's Bill Wilson."

The two men shook hands, "Pleased to meet you Bill."

"Likewise Marshall."

"Just great." Kitty thought to herself, recalling in a flash of memory every instance when a ride on the stage had not gone as planned. Well, this one would go fine. She wasn't going to give in to any niggling doubt that it might turn out otherwise.

Dillon had just settled his long body into the seat next to her when a young woman with an infant came hurrying up to the coach. "Please! Don't leave without us." She presented the money for the fare and was assisted into the stage.

"It'll be close quarters in there." Bill warned her.

"I don't care. Me and the baby don't take up much room." She sat in the seat across from Matt and Kitty with mail bags loaded on either side of her.

Kitty gave the girl a smile and she returned with a slight uplifting of her lips. The woman couldn't have been more than eighteen, with fair fine hair pulled back in a hasty bun. Wispy curls had escaped and framed her face in wild disarray. She was very pale, but so clean her face fairly glowed with it. Her china blue eyes noted Kitty's elegant coiffure, splendid bonnet and expensive traveling suit and she quickly looked away. She pulled tighter a frayed and thread bare shawl, closer around herself and the baby.

Kitty thought the girl looked uncertain and decidedly out of place, like someone who had been plucked from one spot and placed down in a completely different location. Yet, there was an innocence to her winsomeness, which relied on some inner harmony and Kitty felt a pang of jealousy that this poor girl had achieved the beauty every woman envied, without so much as a fashionable garment or elegant bonnet.

The baby in her arms seemed drowsy. He couldn't have been more than six months, thin too, like his mother, fair of face with the same wispy yellow hair. His cheeks were chapped and he had purple hued circles under his sleepy blue eyes. He was clothed in a thin cotton gown with woolen booties on his feet. In his little hands was clutched a faded flannel blanket, that somehow touched a chord in Kitty's memory. The girl cooed soft motherly nothings to the babe and he seemed most content.

"It can't be easy traveling with a young child." Kitty said in an effort to start a conversation with their traveling companion.

"Jesse's a good boy, he won't fuss none, if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm sure he is." Kitty replied kindly. "I run a saloon in Dodge, so one rowdy little cowboy isn't going to bother me none."

Some of the shyness faded from the girl. "That's where me 'n Jesse is headed, to Dodge City, Kansas."

"You have folks in Dodge?" Matt asked.

She gave the big man a wary look and replied with only a shake of her head retuning her attention to the baby.

The stage started with a jerk and it was clear it wasn't going to be a smooth ride, for the mail bags and boxes shifted with each bump and grind of the coach. Kitty looked over at Matt and shrugged her shoulders. She had hoped to have the coach to themselves or at least some interesting travel companions. He grabbed her hand for a quick discreet squeeze. "At least the weather appears like it's going to cooperate." He said.

They traveled the road in silence, save for the grate of the wheel and constant creak and groan of the stagecoach. Mother and child in the seat across from them were soon in an exhausted sleep, she using the U.S. mail bag as a makeshift pillow. Kitty followed suite and Dillon was left to study the woman whose head rested so naturally on his shoulder. If they had been alone he would have wrapped his arm around her so she could be pillowed against his sturdy chest, as it was he slouched in the seat a bit, the better to accommodate her comfort.

The warmth of her body, the sweet smell of her fragrance stirred an emotion in him. He felt a powerful connection to her and a great tender watchfulness washed over him. No one understood him as she did, no one could make him laugh or even smile as much as she. She was his dearest friend, his ardent lover. There was no woman he'd ever desired as much and no woman who had made him feel as whole as Kitty Russell. He needed her in his life and without the badge it would most certainly have been her his life revolved around. The word 'love' came to mind and he dismissed it. He had no rights to the word. What they shared was for the moment, however many they were given, not for ever.

She snored softly, her full lips slightly open, her breath warm against his neck. He touched her hand again, certain no one would see. He would protect her with his life. He would cherish the sight of her, thrill at the touch of her, mourn her loss if she wasn't beside him ... but love, no love was not for one such as he.


	2. Chapter 2

2

They arrived at the first stage stop mid-day. Kitty was awake by then as were their traveling companions. The coach carried with it the strong odor of dirty diaper. Little Jesse, wet and hungry was in no mood to be quieted. The keeper of the way station opened the door and ushered the young mother and her fussy baby out first and then offered a hand to Kitty. "Old woman's got soup on the stove, you can freshen up if so inclined. Best be ready to get back on the stage in 20 minutes. Looks like a cold front is gonna move in."

Matt looked to the West and nodded his head in agreement. "I don't like the way those clouds look, and it must have dropped 15 degrees since we left this morning."

Kitty smiled up at him. "Maybe I'll get to try out that long underwear after all."

He offered a mock scowl of disapproval, "Why don't you start with the jacket and wool socks."

They sat at a battered wood table with benches on either side, Matt, Kitty and the stage driver Bill. The young mother had retired to the bedroom to nurse her baby.

When he'd finished his soup, Bill stood up, "Reckon the team's been changed, time to head out if we want to make Schaefer's Crossing by nightfall." He turned to Kitty, "Ma'am maybe you ought to tell that little mother it's time we were leaving."

"But, she hasn't even eaten yet Bill."

The driver was moving toward the door. "We ain't got much time to spare."

Hastily, Kitty dished up a bowl of the soup, grabbed a piece of bread and a spoon. She looked Bill square in the eye and practically forced him to tell her 'no'. "She has to eat, she's nothing but skin and bones. We won't be long." She softened her look with a smile and the driver nodded in return.

Kitty marched to the back room, knocked on the door and let herself in. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but the stage is ready to leave and you haven't even eaten yet."

The girl was sitting crossed legged on a small cot. Her dress was unbuttoned and the baby was at her breast, "Jesse's just about through. He gets powerful hungry these days."

Kitty set the soup bowl down on a nearby table, "All the more reason to keep you well fed."

The girl buttoned her dress and gave the little boy a couple firm pats to his back. He rewarded the action with a solid burp that made Kitty smile.

She held out her arms and offered, "How about if I take the baby and you can eat your meal?''

The girl smiled a little, "Fancy lady like you? You don't look like you know much about babies."

"I know he needs his diaper changed. I can take care of that while you eat."

There was surprise in the young woman's voice, "I thank you. In my carpet bag, you'll find a clean diaper. There's a bag to stick the dirty one in. I hope I get a chance to wash the dirty ones out tonight. They make a powerful stink."

Kitty opened the tattered bag filled with meager contents. She grabbed a clean diaper and a wet rag from the washbasin and proceeded to clean the baby while his mother made a poor attempt at her meal. The girl looked up to study Kitty as she tended the child, "You're right good at that."

"I've had a little experience. I have a good friend back in Dodge who has a whole house full of babies."

"You live in Dodge long?"

Kitty nodded, "Close to twenty years."

"You run a saloon you said."

"Uh huh. The Long Branch."

"I've heard of the place, in fact, I was goin' to Dodge to see if'n I could get me a job there. You think the owner would hire me. I clean up real good. A little face paint and I'm passable pretty."

"I'd say you're more than passable pretty. Have you had any experience? I don't even know your name ..."

"Sarah ... Sarah Brewer and yes, I've had experience. That's how I ended up with Jesse. Guess he's what you call a liability of the profession. You ever have a liability? Is that how you come to be so good lookin' after little ones?"

Kitty hesitated a beat too long before she answered. "Like I said Sarah, I have a friend who has a large family. As for the Long Branch, I don't just run it, I own it. My name's Kitty Russell. We sell liquor and the only entertainment offered is piano music, a few pretty girls for teasing and selling the beer and a card game or two. Dodge City has a red light district, the Long Branch isn't part of it."

"I can sell liquor and do what it takes to keep the customer's happy. I need to earn a living for Jesse. We're down to our last dollar."

"What about the baby's father?"

"Don't know fer sure who he is, but I'm guessing even if I knowed, he wouldn't be caring nothing about him. I was working in Beaver Falls, Oklahoma at the Trails End. They asked me to leave 'cause they didn't want no baby crying for his supper three times a day. I thought maybe the two of us could get a second chance 'n someone told me to try Dodge City, Kansas."

Kitty handed Jesse back to his mother, his flannel blanket had fallen to the floor and Kitty picked it up and gave it to the little boy. Her hand lingered for a moment on the child's hand as he clutched his beloved blanket. She looked back at Sarah, "Dodge City is a mighty fine place for a second chance. If you let me, I'd like to help you and Jesse."

There was a hard knock on the door followed by Matt's impatient voice. "Kitty! Bill wants to get going NOW. You ladies ready?"

Kitty smiled at Sarah and then answered,"We're coming."

Even in the short time they'd been in the way station the temperatures had dropped. The air had a bite to it and Kitty decided it was time to unwrap some of her packages from the dry goods store. She pulled on the heavy plaid coat and gave the wool Indian blanket to Sarah.

Sarah was pleased, "I've always fancied having one of these here. This one is mighty fine, so thick and warm 'n such pretty colors."

"It's yours Sarah."

"Oh no ma'am, I couldn't keep it."

"Consider it an early Christmas present."

Sarah smiled and the stage glowed in her sweet beauty. She wrapped the warm blanket around herself and her son. Little Jesse cuddled close to his mother content in the warmth and comfort.

As for Miss Kitty Russell, she looked a little odd with her fancy skirts, plumed bonnet and the heavy plaid jacket. It was oversized on her, but the warmth was much appreciated. She put the mittens on as well and then felt a pang of guilt, took them off and handed them to Sarah too. "I have pockets to keep my hands warm."

Dillon watched the exchange. For as many years as he had known Kitty Russell, there were times he felt he hardly knew her at all. Like a miner in search of the Mother Lode, each layer brought forth a new and unexpected discovery.

The snow flurries started five miles down the road. Just light fluffy flakes that melted as soon as they touched the ground. They changed horses a few miles later at another stage stop. They were given a cup of strong coffee and the opportunity to relieve themselves before Bill called them back on the stage. The snow continued to fall, just a light dusting that swirled ahead of them and in their wake.


	3. Chapter 3

3

By the time they reached Schaefer's Crossing the weather had changed again and the air was calm without a flurry in the sky and only an inch or so of snow on the ground.

The house at Schafer's Crossing was a two story white framed home with green shutters. The eight over eight windows gleamed and each was dressed with calico or muslin. There was a large front porch that looked like it was well used in nicer weather. Standing on the porch the aroma of hardwood burning in the fireplace and cinnamon and spice filtered through to the travelers.

The door opened with a hearty welcome, "Come on in folks. Winter's in the air today. Got a nice fire going and rabbit stew and biscuits ready to warm you up." Arnold Schaefer was a round man in his middle thirties. He had a pleasant face and clearly enjoyed his job. His wife was equally round with cheeks rosy from the cook stove. Five children under fourteen were busy doing assigned tasks from helping with the team to setting the table.

"Got that package you ordered from the Dry Goods store Mrs. Schaefer." Bill announced setting a large brown paper wrapped bundle on the long dinner table.

"Thank you Bill, I was hoping it would get here before we got snowed in."

There was a large hearth room dominated by a big stone fireplace and on either side were doors to the traveler's sleeping quarters. "Men in the room to the right, ladies on the left. My son Georgie will carry in your bags." Mrs. Schaefer spied little Jesse tucked behind the Indian blanket. "Oh my!" she said holding out her arms. "Give that little one to me, while you warm yourselves up. What's his name?"

"Jesse." Sarah answered shyly.

Mrs. Schafer patted the baby's soggy bottom. "Oh that's a fine name, a good Bible name."

"It is?" Sarah asked.

"Why surely, it means _God's gift_. It's a fine name for this little lamb," She gave a reassuring smile to Sarah, "Don't you worry none, now, I know all about little ones. You ladies just get yourselves settled in."

Georgie a lad of ten or so, was lugging Kitty's two bags, her package from the dry goods store and Sarah's small satchel. "This way please." He said in fine imitation of his father's hospitable welcome.

They were led to a cozy room with four beds, each with two pillows, clean white sheets and a colorful patchwork quilt on top. Bright rag rugs warmed the plank floors and cream colored muslin curtains adorned the windows.

"This is real pretty, ain't it Miss Russell? But, I reckon you'd sooner be sleeping with your man." Sarah said.

"No matter." Kitty replied. "This is pretty! At most way stations you sleep on a bunk and make do with last week's sheets and a scrap of wool for your blanket."

There was a washstand with fresh water and sweet smelling homemade lavender soap. Kitty offered Sarah the first use. "No ma'am. You go first ... I don't mind waiting." Sarah sat on the bed and bounced a couple times. "Right comfortable. Don't ever remember such luxury as this."

It was as she was bouncing on the bed that Kitty noticed the girl didn't have any socks on under her thin slippers. "Sarah you're going to freeze before we get to Dodge. She dug in her packages and retrieved the pair of wool stockings. "Here."

"Ma'am I can't just keep takin' stuff from you."

"Nonsense, put them on!" She pulled out the long johns. "Here, you can have these too."

"Why are you so nice to me?" Sarah asked as she stripped off her dress and stepped into the wool underwear.

Kitty finished scrubbing the trail dust from her face, taking the day's face paint with it as well. She took off her bonnet, unpinned the coiffure and brushed her hair free of it's city style. Looking in the mirror, she bit her lip at the change in her reflection. Her world suddenly felt off kilter and she didn't know how to right it. She saw Sarah's sweet face reflected there too, "Maybe," the word was barely audible and then her doubt was transformed to a smile, " ... Maybe ... because once a long time ago, I needed a second chance and I remember how it feels."

**GS GS GS**

Matt helped Bill and Arnold get the team settled in the stable. When they were finished they headed into the house. Georgie pointed them in the direction of the mens' quarters. This room was smaller than the womens' room and contained six bunk beds built into the walls none of which was long enough to accommodate Matt Dillon's long frame. He was used to it and could bed down anywhere, fact was he didn't really sleep much anymore. Always, he was on the alert, gun at the ready to spring into action. Except, he thought, except for the two weeks in St. Louis. For a brief span of time there was no badge to define him, he was just the man who escorted the most beautiful woman in town. He spent a few moments washing face and hands and then ran a comb through water slicked hair. The smell of rabbit stew and cornbread brought his stomach to life and he realized just how hungry he was.

Sarah and Kitty were sitting on a blue braided rug in front of the fireplace. Jesse was in Kitty's lap, sucking on the corner of his flannel blanket, as they watched some of the younger Schafer children build a tower with handmade toy blocks. Kitty looked up when he came in the room. She smiled at him with features softened by firelight and children. He was startled for a moment by how plain she looked, face clean of paint, hair brushed and pulled back from her face in a braid. She had a simple knit shawl over her shoulders that Mrs. Schaefer must have given her to wear. Kitty could have been any one of the farmers' or ranchers' wives he'd seen over the years and it came to him in that ordinary place there was a glow the bright lights, fancy taffetas and silks couldn't compete with.

His heartbeat quickened, even in such plain garb she had a powerful hold over him. It gave him pause to ponder. He took a deep breath and smiled back at her. Then because he felt compelled to do so he joined Kitty taking a knee beside her on the floor. Baby Jesse was looking some better. Mrs. Schaefer had found a warm woolen dress for him with stockings and thick wool booties. The baby's hair had been combed and petroleum jelly applied to his chapped cheeks. "We'll be eating in just a few minutes." Mrs. Schaefer called from her kitchen.

The meal was pleasant, the children well-behaved and the food delicious. He wasn't sure when the baby had been transferred to him, but when little Jesse fell asleep at the table it was in the arms of the Marshal. He looked into the sleeping face, taking in the wonder of so small a being. There was some marvel to it all that an infant would grow all too soon into a man and what a great responsibility it was to see he grew wise and kind, strong and brave.

The older daughters cleared the table and Mrs. Schafer asked her guests, "You folks wouldn't mind if we brought in our Christmas tree and decorated it tonight, would you? Arnold and the boys chopped it down this morning and I don't know if I can make the children wait another night before we dress it for Christmas.

Both Kitty and Sarah's eyes glowed with excitement, "It would right glorious." Sarah declared.

Kitty tried to subdue her own enthusiasm, "Wouldn't you rather wait until after we're gone, we don't want to impose on a family tradition."

"Nonsense, I have popcorn for stringing. Gingerbread for eating. It will be a party all the better to have guests to enjoy it with" She turned to the boy who had helped with their carpetbags, "Georgie you go get the decorations out of the closet."

"Yes'm." Georgie ran to a door under the stairs leading up to the family's sleeping quarters. Opening the door he pulled out a small crate. Carefully he lifted the box and brought it to the table where his mother was sitting.

She opened the box and it was obvious there were treasures inside. Each object had been carefully wrapped in tissue paper. Her children had gathered around her and Kitty and Sarah were seated on either side. "These here are like old friends to me. Each year when I open up the box and look at the ornaments a memory comes to mind. See these glass ones? They came from my Mama, I used to have six, now there's only the four." She unwrapped three wax angels, their muslin gowns showing a little wear and their wire halos somewhat tarnished but each was treated like a valuable prize. "I got these from my girl-hood friend Nellie, was her name, when she heard my first baby was born." Next came the carved animals. They were roughly made and crudely painted and each had a satin ribbon for hanging on the tree. "The first year we was married Arnold spent the nights carving animals for my Christmas tree. See, here's my dog, and there's a cat, I called it Muffin, because it reminded me of a calico barn cat I took a shine to. A few years later he made me all the different kinds of birds we'd see flying around the farm. I love looking at the birds on the tree." She pulled out the last bundle in the box and as she unwrapped the figures her smile grew, "Here are the ponies." Jesse was sitting on Sarah's lap sucking his thumb. Mrs. Schaefer held the horses up for Jesse to see, there was a black and white paint, a roan with a blaze and a yellow horse with black mane, tail and stockings. Jesse reached out to touch the carving.

"Oh you like that one do you boy?" Jesse drooled and smiled like he understood what Mrs. Schaefer was asking. "Here you can hold it while we get the tree ready to dress."

Jesse immediately put the pony in his mouth and cooed his delight.

By this time the men had brought the tree into the hearth room and had it set up in front of the window. "I always like seeing the Christmas tree when I'm outside looking in. Makes the house look so festive." Mrs. Schafer explained.

The next two hours were spent decorating the tree. The last ornament to be placed was the one in Jesse's hand and he didn't want to give it up. He put up a fuss when his mother tried to pry it from his grasp. It was Matt Dillon who stepped in. He picked up the little boy from Sarah's lap and took him over to the tree, holding him in the crook of his arm. He showed him each of the decorations, talking softly, using words one would not expect to come out of the big man's mouth. "Kitten." He said pointing to the calico. "See the birdie." Dillon touched the replica of a flying robin and it soared back and forth on it's ribbon. "Let's put the horsee on the tree now." Jesse released the pony to Matt, who placed the ornament on a prominent limb near the top. Jesse giggled with delight at seeing the pony dance on the tree as it settled in place.

Logs were added to the fireplace and cups of warmed cider and gingerbread cookies were passed to everyone to enjoy. Then young Emily Schaefer aged 12, sat down at the sadly out of tune pump organ housed in a far corner of the room and played a round of Christmas carols. The childrens' sweet voices, equally out of tune joined in. It was the closest Kitty Russell had ever come to being part of a real family for a Christmas celebration and she guessed the same could be said for Sarah.

When the evening was over and the sleepy children were sent off to say their prayers and crawl into bed, Sarah went to Mrs. Schaefer and fell into the generous woman's arms. "Thank you Ma'am. Don't reckon I'd a ever known what a family Christmas is all about. To have this night to spend with you all and my little baby boy, why it's like an answer to a prayer."

Mrs. Schafer held Sarah close, as though she were one of her own children, she patted her head, kissed her cheek and said, "God always answers our prayers Sarah, in this world or the next."


	4. Chapter 4

4.

"Sleep well." Was all Dillon said to the women, there was no word of love for Kitty, no kiss to lip or cheek, no touch of hand to display affection, and yet for a brief instant their eyes met. It was the silent language that had served them over the many years of their relationship. Never quite enough to convey all that needed to be said, but enough to sustain.

In the dark of their room with the rest of the house asleep, Sarah and Jesse on one bed and Kitty on another the young mother asked, "Your baby died, didn't he Ma'am."

The cloak of night hid her face, but her voice betrayed the lie, "I don't know what you're taking about Sarah."

"When you said you went to Dodge for a second chance ..."

"That's really none of your business." Kitty rolled to her side and clutched the extra bed pillow to her bosom. She wasn't aware of tears in her eyes, but the ache in her heart was enough to take her breath away. She fought for control and when she spoke again it was in a strained whisper, "I guess I was about as low as a person can get. I was broke, just enough money to get me to one more filthy saloon in one more godforsaken cowtown."

The girl's voice was gentle, "Where'd you come from Ma'am?"

"New Orléans by way of San Francisco."

"Always wanted to see San Francisco. Mighty fancy goings on there, New Orléans too, no wonder you're such an elegant lady."

"Guess that's one word for it."

"Why did you ever leave San Francisco?

'You sure have a lot of questions, besides, it's late, we'll be leaving early in the morning."

"But why did you?"

"Well, if you must know, I needed to get away."

"Why?"

Kitty clutched the pillow tighter, finding solace in the embrace even with such a lifeless object. "I needed someplace ... where there were no memories ..."

Sarah let Kitty's words hang in the dark for a moment before saying again, "Your baby died." This time the words were not a question but a statement of fact.

For a long time there was no sound from the other side of the room and Sarah thought maybe Miss Russell had fallen asleep. A coyote howled in the distance, an owl hooted from a nearby tree and the moon passed from behind a cloud bringing night shadows to the room before Kitty replied, "Yes, he died."

"I'm right sorry Miss Kitty."

"No matter ... It was a long time ago. Don't know why I told you now. I haven't talked about it since I left San Francisco. Please, just forget I mentioned it."

"No ma'am I won't forget ... I'll grieve for your little one ... It ain't right that a baby passes and no one grieves."

Long after she heard the quiet sounds of Sarah sleeping, Kitty lay awake thinking. Odd how something buried so deep in your soul that you could forget it existed, had the power to resurface so swiftly and painfully.

She'd been nineteen when she'd first come to San Francisco. Young beautiful and so skilled with cards that she won a job dealing at the Gold Nugget, the most élite gambling house in a town known for fancy women, rich tastes and free-flowing money. She soon became a favorite with the wealthy gents both young and old. One in particular, Leland Huntington found her favor. His family had come to San Francisco in 1850 and settled on what was to be the prestigious Nob Hill area. Leland's father was a banker who made millions during the gold rush without ever lifting a pick axe, his mother was the product of New York aristocracy so even in a new country their money was old. Leland was young and incredibly handsome with jet black hair and the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. She fell in love with him and dreamed of a life together.

Though she disapproved Leland's mother let the relationship go on figuring it would eventually burn itself out. When it didn't Mrs. Huntington arranged a visit with Kitty Russell. She brought with her an entourage which included a humorless bespectacled attorney and her older sister Ethel Willowbrook, who was herself a wealthy dowager of uncompromising opinion. Kitty being young and naïve despite her profession, welcomed them to her room. "I've looked forward to meeting you Ma'am." She said.

Mrs. Huntington wore a heavily draped gown with jewels in her ears and a hat that added nearly a foot to her height. She gave no regard to Kitty's greeting, but spoke in a demanding tone. "You are to stop seeing my son at once. I'll not have his future jeopardized by the likes of a saloon trollop. He will be a great man one day. Why, he could be Governor!"

Mrs. Huntington's sister agreed, "Yes, even President of the United States."

The lawyer stepped forward. "Mrs. Huntington has asked that you consider a business proposition. I have the forms drawn up for your signature. I have been authorized to give you this check for $2,500.00 to leave California and never to return."

"You can't be serious?" Kitty said in disbelief. "I love Leland, we plan to get married someday."

Mrs. Huntington scoffed, "You are nothing more than a dalliance. Not worthy of anything more than satisfying his baser desires. Take the money and leave California. Never contact my son or my family again. It's a generous offer, certainly more than you deserve. Refuse and you will be sorry for I will make certain your life is nothing more than a living hell."

In shock and anger Kitty grabbed the paperwork from the attorney. She waved the documents in front of Mrs. Huntington's face. "How dare you try to buy me off! When Leland finds out about this, you'll be the one who is sorry!" She tore the paper in shreds and threw the remnants at the indignant woman.

Mrs Huntington's face turned to stone, "You have sealed your fate and shall pay the consequences."

By the end of the week Kitty had been fired from the Gold Nugget, having been accused of cheating at cards. She quickly found a job at another saloon but despite the fact business doubled with the attractive redhead she found herself terminated from this position as well. She worked several other gambling parlors and saloons, each more unsavory than the last until finally she found herself working at a filthy saloon near the wharf that was little better than a bordello. She had been feeling unwell for some time following her visit from Mrs. Huntington. After a talk with another saloon girl, it became apparent Kitty was going to have a child. She was scared but excited too for she was sure Mrs. Huntington would change her mind and welcome the mother of her grandchild into the family. Her body was already changing shape, her breasts full her flat stomach uncharacteristically rounded. She wouldn't be able to hide her condition much longer. She began to plan a visit to Nob Hill.

That night as she was mucking out the saloon floor, she happened to spot the local newspaper on a tabletop. It was opened to the society page. The headline read, "Leland Huntington to Marry Railroad Heiress Hortense Hopkins."

The paper fell from her hands to the floor. She felt sick to her stomach and had to rush outside to retch in the street. People passing by regarded her as just another drunken saloon girl and no one came to her aid. When she had recovered she made her way to her small room. She cried herself to sleep. In the morning she thought about the $2,500.00 that had been offered to her. She could take the money and make a second chance for herself and the baby. However, pride had always been a part of Kitty Russell's make up and she'd never been one to admit to a lost cause.

That being the case, she had no alternative but to let Leland know about the child. He should be the one to make the decision not his mother. The newspaper had said there was to be an engagement party to honor the couple in two days. When the time came she dressed in the best gown she had left, a red taffeta that showed both cleavage and the elegant curve of her neck. She draped herself with a cheap black sequined shawl to cover her rounded belly and rented a carriage to take her to the home of Hortense Hopkins. She climbed the stairs to the stately mansion and knocked on the door. A dignified gentleman in butler's garb answered. "I'm here to see Leland Huntington."

He was aware of who the young woman was, servants talked from household to household. He'd been ordered to watch for the girl, should she come to cause trouble. "Your name is not on the guest list. You will leave or I shall summon the constable."

"Please." Kitty said, and he was man enough to be moved by her lovely face and sincere supplication. She held out a note and asked the servant to give it to Leland. "Please tell him I need to talk with him, just for a moment, that's all I ask."

"Very well." The butler agreed, asking her to stand around the corner of the main door so she wouldn't be visible to those passing by on the street. It was cold out and raining. She was left to wait nearly twenty minutes before Leland appeared.

His face held an ugly scowl, which softened only somewhat when he saw once more how pretty she was. In his hand he held the note she'd written. His voice had a hard edge to it. "It's over Kitty. It was fun while it lasted but I have obligations to my family and my father's business. It is important I marry someone of my own social standing. If you hadn't made such a fuss with Mother, we could have resumed our good times once my honeymoon was over. Not now. If you are not out of San Francisco by the end of the week I shall be forced to have you thrown into jail. Don't doubt that I can Kitty, as quickly as a snap of my fingers."

"I'm going to have a child." She blurted out

He laughed then and it was a cruel sound. "What do you want me to do about it? Surely you aren't claiming your bastard child is mine? Why everyone knows what kind of woman you are. It's all over town how you cheat at cards, steal from your customers and your employers."

"That's a lie, you know it is. As for the baby, it is your child, there has been no one else."

"What kind of fool do you take me for? You work in a brothel."

She moved closer to him, "Please, you said you loved me ... You said ..."

"You are a fool. A man will say anything to get what he wants. Now leave or I'll have you taken away."

"You wouldn't dare." She raised her hand to slap him but he pushed her away and in doing so he sent her tumbling down the brick stairs to the street below.

He brushed his hands as if they'd been made dirty by the contact. "It is your own bastard child, I lay no claim to it." He declared.

She struggled to her feet and screamed at him. " How can you deny your child, what kind of man are you?" And then before she knew what had happened she was being manhandled by two armed men with badges pinned to their chests. "Take her away." Leland Huntington shouted from the top of the stairs. "See to it she is locked up until she is so old and ugly no one will have use for her."

"No!" She screamed, "NO... Let me go ..."

She turned to see Leland watching her being dragged away. The double doors to the mansion opened and a dour faced girl grabbed possessively at Leland's arm. He patted her hand and lead her inside the grand home, without so much as a backward glance.

It was in the San Francisco women's prison that her child was born and died. Three months later she was released from prison. Her friends from the Gold Nugget had scraped together $35.00 in cash and a stage ticket east. She had one threadbare traveling suit to her name and a meager supply of personal items that had been placed in a worn out carpet bag. She was thin and sick and very much alone when she boarded the stagecoach east.

If she had learned one thing from her last encounter with Leland Huntington it was to not look back. She vowed never to let what happened in San Francisco happen to her again. There would remain over her heart a protective shell, impenetrable to such a shoddy emotion as love. The tiny child left behind was buried deeper in her soul than in the prison graveyard.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

Bill was snoring loudly in the adjacent bunk, a shorter man, the compact bed fit his build perfectly. Dillon tried to adjust his large frame to a comfortable position but after riding in the stage all day his body was sore and restless. He switched from back to side trying to let the aches of old injuries settle. Bill must have rolled to his side too, because the snoring stopped for a moment. In the new found quiet, Matt suddenly heard the sound of someone stirring in the hearth room. Instinctively, his hand went under his pillow to cradle the handle of his revolver in his palm. It could have been most anything, the cat that was allowed in the house at night to catch stray mice; one of the children in search of a glass of water; Arnold or Mrs. Schaefer; or an intruder. He slipped from under the covers, wearing long johns and socks, no longer aware of aches and pains, but focused on the job his badge demanded he do.

The house was cold, the fire almost out. He felt the chill of the floor, even through the wool socks on his feet. With gun at the ready he scanned the hearth room looking for anything that might be amiss. He heard a sound from Mrs. Schaefer's china hutch as the cat jumped down from the cupboard to the floor to greet him. The old warrior of the barnyard purred loudly and did a figure-eight between his legs. Matt gave a gentle shoo to the feline who ran off to continue his nocturnal prowl.

By the dying fire light, he could see a familiar form sitting in the rocking chair. He said her name but she didn't answer. He detected a slight turn of head and then saw Jesse sleeping in her arms. He set his gun on a table top and moved to Kitty, dropping to a knee beside her. "Everything alright?" He whispered

The embers popped and a spark flew. She sighed and then looked at him. Her voice was low, "Baby was crying, I thought I'd give Sarah a chance to sleep." Her feet were bare and she was wearing a thin silk robe for cover, but Jesse was wrapped in the warm blanket Mrs. Schaefer had donated for the night.

Matt reached out to touch her arm. "You're cold as ice and Jesse's sleeping. Don't you think you can go back to bed now?"

She shook her head "I kind of like it out here. It's quiet and peaceful. Didn't know nighttime could be like this."

He took a deep breath and got up to add another log to the fire and stir up the flames a bit. The log took light and when he turned back to look at her, he saw the tear stains that trailed down her cheeks.

She was hurting and he winced at the pain of it. He knelt in front of her and with the pad of his thumb wiped away the moisture on the side of her face. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"S'nothing. Why don't you go on back to bed? Jesse and I are just fine here."

He shook his head. He knew the battle was lost. He pulled off his socks and slipped them on her bare feet and then rose from the floor. He saw Mrs. Schaefer's shawl hanging on a hook by the door and he draped it over her shoulders. "You want me to stay and keep you company?"

"No, I've got little Jesse to keep me from getting lonely, but I thank you for offering."

He bent down and kissed the top of her head while giving her arm a tender squeeze. He had to try one more time, "Kitty?"

"Not now." She whispered. "Thanks for the socks. You better go back to bed or your feet will be freezing."

"G'night." He said so softly it was barely more than a moving of his lips and then he retrieved his revolver and returned to the bunk room.

Bill was snoring again. Matt lay back on the hard bed with his knees bent and his feet cold. He stared into the darkness, but the only image he could see was that of Kitty with the baby in her arms as tears slipped down her cheeks. Something had happened to them in the last day that he couldn't define. There seemed a power at work in their lives forcing them to look at their history from an angle they had avoided for twenty years. He didn't know how to stop it or if he should. They would talk in the morning. He promised himself, this time they would. It came to him as a revelation then. They never talked. They teased and cajoled, but when it came to important matters they dodged the issues with standard replies, "We've never needed words between us, have we Kitty?"

"You know I've always considered what you did your own business Kitty."

And she, "If there's something I just can't talk about..."

"I wouldn't ask you to." His response would be.

Matt Dillon had suspected from the very beginning there was something young Kitty Russell was hiding from him. Most women who ended up in a cowtown saloon were running away from something. He'd put two and two together and sent a telegram to the San Francisco Police Department. The telegram he'd received as an answer to his inquiry had said, "charges dropped."

A copy of her prison file had come by mail sometime later. Falsely accused, she'd been incarcerated five months, during that time Kitty had given birth to a still born son, a child buried in a prison grave yard. By kerosine light, late in the night, the youthful lawman read the document, and then opened up the bottle of whiskey he kept in his desk drawer. He finished off half the contents and then tossed her file in the potbelly stove, watching the fire destroy her secret as if the flames could rid the heartache she carried.

Over the years he forgot about the baby, especially when it seemed she had too. Yet, every once in a while, a sad look would come to her eyes and when he asked what was wrong she would reply, "If there's something I just can't talk about ..."

He in return, with a gentle touch and tender voice, "I wouldn't ask you to."


	6. Chapter 6

6.

She was fine in the morning. Hair dressed in an elaborate do, gown just so, even the makeup she hated to apply was perfectly in place. When he asked, "How are you." She answered with such affirmation he could almost believe the night before hadn't happened.

Although Mrs. Schaefer had prepared a huge breakfast, they ate a hurried meal. Bill's impatient prodding, "Teams ready to go folks, we gotta make tracks. I don't like the way that sky is looking," forced them to leave food on their plates and coffee in their cups.

Mrs. Schaefer handed a basket to Matt, "I've packed a few provisions for you, in case the going gets slow, at least you'll have something to put in your bellies." and to Sarah she offered a small bundle. "Just some extra baby things I had laying around. Might come in handy until you get yourself settled in Dodge City."

Sarah reached a hand to touch Mrs. Schafer's "Oh, but I couldn't take this, what if you need them again."

The kind woman smiled in a knowing way and then patted her belly, "Don't you worry none, Bill brought more flannel. Going to give my girls a lesson in making baby clothes this winter." She kissed Sarah on the cheek and took Kitty's hand in both of hers. "You best do as Bill says now. Merry Christmas and the Lord's blessings to you always."

**GS GS GS**

The wind was howling and snow was coming down hard. Matt reached around a mail bag and latched the stagecoach curtains tight, even then the snow came in and settled on their clothes and in their hair, especially on the side Sara occupied with Jesse. She held the baby close with the Indian blanket wrapped tightly around them both.

"Sara, you and the baby come and sit over here with Matt. He'll warm you up." Dillon gave Kitty a short glance and then he offered a hand to Sarah while Kitty shifted to the spot where the young mother had been sitting. She pulled up the collar of her plaid coat and shoved her hands deeper in the pockets. The coach was straining and sliding by turns. The heavy mail load shifting from side to side adding to the burden of the team.

My mid-day Matt knew they were in trouble. They should have reached the way station an hour earlier. Bill had stopped the stage to scrape the ice build up from the wheels. Matt had jumped from the coach to help him.

"Ain't gonna lie to you Matt, don't know fer sure where we're at. Somehow, we lost the trail. In this drifting snow, I got no sense of direction. I'm just looking for anywhere we can hole up until the worst of things pass."

Matt nodded, he straightened his spine and scanned their surroundings. "Can't tell North from South, East from West ..." He grimaced in the face of the biting snow.

Bill took off his ice caked leather gloves and blew on his fingers and then flexed them hoping to bring back some feeling, "All those mail bags ain't helpin' none."

"Hate to toss them out, we might need them to form a shelter, they'd insulate us pretty good against this weather if we can't go any further." He handed his dry gloves to Bill, "You need these worse than I do."

Bill nodded and pulled on the warm gloves giving his wet ones to Dillon. His whiskers were ice and the hat on his head was frozen stiff from the sleet. "Horses are 'bout played out. Might be just a wishful thought but there was an abandoned line shack somewhere around here, I'm thinking we make it to the top of that far hill, we're gonna spot it."

"If not, we're gonna have to make shelter best we can." Matt pulled the collar up on his jacket and moved to the team, checking each animal as he made his way to the lead horse. Bill nodded his head in understanding and climbed back on the coach and released the brake.

From inside the stage, Kitty had been listening to the conversation. She opened Matt's carpet bag and pulled out a couple items. To Sarah she ordered, "You and Jesse stay put. Wrap that old buffalo robe around you." She unlatched the door and called out, "Wait just a minute. I didn't buy these new boots and this fancy plaid coat for nothing." Dillon noticed with some humor that she had a pair of his wool socks on her hands and his extra pair of long johns wrapped around her head like a scarf. "I said if I have to help push, I'd be ready to push."

"Kitty, there's no need." He began and then seeing the determined look in her eye and realizing the desperate situation they were in, he nodded his head in agreement. "Miss Sarah and the baby okay in there?"

"They're fine. All bundled up and cushioned against the mail bags."

"Bill?" Matt deferred to the driver.

Bill, half frozen from his perch atop the coach said, "Ma'am, you and the Marshal walk on either side of the lead horses. Kinda sweet talk and curse 'em by turn. We're aiming for that rise about a quarter mile away."

"Watch your step." Dillon ordered. "You slip and fall, those horses aren't going to mind tromping right over the top of you."

"I'll be fine. You just watch your step mister."

Bill gave the reins a slap. The animals reluctantly took a step forward.

"Come on you." Kitty said to the big bay on her side of the rig. She grabbed his bridle and tugged. The horse answered with a bob of his head. Matt Dillon looked across at her, in such incongruous dress, his eyes slitted for a moment. This, the same woman who had danced at the fanciest dance hall St. Louis had to offer to the admiring eyes of every man and woman there. He knew in that flash of an instant, she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Not the law, nor the badge, nor any oath he'd ever taken to defend and protect, all those were important, but none more important than that red-headed woman who had more guts than any person he'd ever known.

He knew something else too. The truth of it so plain, he couldn't begin to understand how it was just now, that he understood. He loved her.


	7. Chapter 7

7.

She caught his eyes and smiled back. Despite the wind blowing, pelting her face with sleet and snow, she felt the warmth of his feelings for her. It was a strange acknowledgement to her soul. She was loved, and it had nothing to do with the sway of her hips or the plunge of her neckline or the artful things she could do in bed. It was an emotion stronger than need, bigger than desire and lasting eternally, not for a day or week or years on end, but forever.

Bill cracked the whip and the spell was broken. She trudged forward, one with the big bay, each step breaking through the top crust, into snow up to her knees, to pull foot out and step forward again. Her face burned with the cold. Her fingers were numb. Her skirts wet with snow adding weight to her burden. Her heart pounded with the effort and she was sweating beneath her layers of clothing.

The team breathed heavy, their hides wore coats of frozen lather. "Come on." Kitty encouraged. "Keep going. Not much further. Come on you horse. Move, move damn you, keep moving."

They traveled a ridge, which could have been the road. The incline was steep now, the footing becoming treacherous for both team and humans but the summit of the hill was only yards away. Surely, from this great vantage they would spot a refuge from the storm. Just the thought spurred them on. They would have reached the top without event had the horse on Matt's side not completely lost his footing, causing a chain reaction. The brace attached to the coach already strained by force of nature and weight gave way and the coach started sliding back in the icy snow. Bill tried frantically to maintain control but there was nothing left to control and in the beat of a heart the stagecoach was careening down the side of the hill. Hitting a rock it teetered a moment before toppling end over end to the bottom of the long embankment.

GS GS GS

She had tried with all her might to hang on to the bay, as if her strength could keep him from falling. He, limbs flailing, fighting frantically against the force of the coach he'd pulled so faithfully. She'd held her grasp as long as she could until the reins had been ripped from her hands and she'd been thrown hard to the icy snow. She slid, hitting rock and then tree. The final sounds she heard before unconsciousness took her was the shattering of coach and the cries of man and horses.

GS GS GS

She fought her way back ignoring the urge to give in to the place of peace and darkness. She commanded her eyes to open, she ordered her body to move. She did so with pain, for her arm had been badly twisted and there was a sharp ache in her side. She splayed her fingers and then made a fist and though painful they worked. With her good hand she wiped what she thought was snow from her forehead and her sock covered hand came away red with blood. She looked at it, confused by the change of color.

It took her another moment before she could slowly shift her position enough, so that she was leaning against the tree, which had stopped her fall. She was downhill some from the trail, but could see the form of the big bay at the crest, standing motionless in the swirling snow. She blinked her eyes, certain she was looking at a ghost horse. Behind her and some distance below the tree she leaned against, she could hear the pitiful cries of the injured animals. It was that sound which brought realty in focus.

She tried her voice, "Matt." It was weak and sounded hollow, but she tried again, giving more force to the name. "Matt." She thought she saw him standing beside the bay, she raised up a little but pain slammed her eyes shut and darkness won a momentary victory.

When she opened her eyes again it was into the face of Matt Dillon. He looked battered and bruised. "You're bleeding." She managed to say.

"So are you." He replied with a tender smile, "but thank God you're alive." His gentle fingers probed the bloody wound on her head, he kept his voice calm and rhythmic as he did his examination. "You must have somehow managed to release the bay from his harness, he's a little dazed but appears sound." He ran his hands over her body and stopped when she winced as he touched her side. "Ribs sore?" He asked.

"I'm okay, what about you?"

"Like you, I've been better, but we'll survive. You just sit quiet for a bit, I'm going down the hill to put those horses out of their misery and see about Bill, Sarah and Jesse."

She listened to him as he began the descent down the hill and then gritted her teeth and using a scrub tree for support, pulled her self to her feet. She swayed and nearly fell over sideways. Her ears were ringing and shadows of grey played with her vision. She leaned forward resting her head against the trunk of the sturdier tree, finally she felt steady enough to turn and look downhill. Matt was already halfway to the bottom. She could see the path the coach took, leaving destruction in it's wake. Young trees were snapped in half. The mail bags which had tormented their journey were now ruptured, littering the trail with letters and packages. She saw her carpetbag with her clothes scattered about.

She started forward, skidding and sliding, sashaying from tree to tree, stopping when the waves of dizziness hit. Halfway down the hill she came across Bill. He too had been thrown at the trunk of a large tree, but hadn't been as lucky as she. He was dead. There was no question to that. She spent no time for tears or mourning for despite the sound of the injured horses she thought she heard the cry of a baby. Now she offered a prayer. "Please let Sarah and Jesse be okay."

She came to the bottom of the ravine just as Matt took aim, shooting each horse in quick succession. There was a relief to the sudden silence of death, knowing that at least the animals were free from suffering. Then Jesse's wail broke the stillness.

"Sarah" She called.

Matt turned to see her behind him. "Kitty."

"I hear the baby" she said. Together they walked the final steps to the stage coach, supporting one another.

Save for a slight list, the stage had landed right side up. The door had been torn off and the wheels broken away. He ordered her stay and went forward to check the inside of the coach. He climbed awkwardly into the broken conveyance, it tilted under his weight. She could see him bent over and immobile for a brief second before he pulled out more mail bags and the buffalo robes that had somehow managed to stay in the coach on it's down hill descent and then he had the baby in his arms. Somehow, as if by a miracle the child had been unharmed. With great care he lifted little Jesse from the rubble and carefully handed him out to Kitty's waiting arms.

She held him close in a shaking embrace. "Where's your mama little one?" She asked.

"Sarah!" Dillon called and louder, "SARAH?" To Kitty he said, "She must have been thrown from the coach." The sun was beginning to set and the sleet had changed again to thick snow making it more difficult to see.

"Sarah, Sarah..." Kitty called, panic clouding her voice.

The reply was faint, but they both heard it because the baby had stopped crying and it was as if he too was listening for the sound of his mother's voice.

"Over there" Matt said pointing to a grove of trees maybe twenty-five feet from where the stagecoach had settled. He reached Sarah first with Kitty close behind. He knelt down beside her. Even in the glooming there was an ethereal glow to the young woman. "Kitty." She whispered, and the older woman fell to her knees beside the injured girl.

"Hush Sarah, rest now. We'll get a fire going and make a shelter for the night. We'll be fine. In the morning Matt will get us out of here. Look, your baby made out better than any of us. He's just fine, he's just perfect." She held the baby close to his mother and then placed Sarah's hand on her child.

Sarah shook her head, "Second chance." She said. "I found our second chance."

Kitty's tremulous voice betrayed her emotion, "Sure Sarah, we'll get you to Dodge and you and Jesse will have your second chance. I'll make sure of it."

Sarah's voice was weak but steady, "My baby will have a second chance at life."

"Yes Sarah in Dodge ... You rest now ... "

"Funny ..."

"What Sarah?"

"It doesn't hurt as much this time."

A chill ran down Kitty's spine that had nothing to do with the cold, "What doesn't hurt as much?

"Dying ... It doesn't hurt as much this time ... Guess it's 'cause I know my baby will be taken care of now. It's a second chance for him ... a second chance ... for ... you Kitty." Sarah closed her eyes, but the corners of her mouth lifted in a smile, when she opened them again she said, "I came all this way ... looking for you."

"You did?"

"Uh huh ... I told Him ... I told Him it wasn't fair that my little one didn't have a chance at life."

Kitty swayed and a strong arm reached around her to keep her steady. Matt beside her had one hand on the dying, the other on the living.

Sarah's eyes were open now, but unseeing, still the words held strength, "He said find the childless mother ... she will take your place and Jesse ... will take the place ... of the child she lost."

Night is never so quiet as when the snow is falling. It brings with it a peace and a purity as though the sins of the world, cloaked by a mantle of white, have all been forgiven.

The moon broke free of a cloud and cast light to the beautiful countenance of Sarah. Her body convulsed in a slow spasm and then she summoned her final words as the celestial glow warmed her fading features, "Y'see Kitty, God does answer our prayers in this world and the next."


	8. Chapter 8

**Epilogue**

The chubby little cherub of a boy, just shy of eighteen months, watched as his father placed the final ornament on the tree. "Horsee..." he squealed in delight "HorSee Dadda's HorSeee." His mother picked him up and held him to the Christmas tree so he could touch the ornament and watch it dance on it's ribbon of satin.

**GS GS GS**

The storm had continued. Matt, Kitty, and little Jesse made shelter at the site of the stagecoach wreck for two days, guarding the bodies of Sarah and Bill from coyotes and other animals scavenging for food. On the third day, after wrapping Bill and Sarah in the Indian Blanket and covering them with the buffalo robes weighted by stone and mail bags they set out on the one remaining horse. They found the abandoned line shack late in the day. They were both suffering from exposure and the injuries received in the wreck. Kitty was running a high fever by then and Dillon had moments when his memories faded in and out. Somehow, between the two of them, they managed to take care of baby Jesse and hang on for another three days, when searchers finally found them.

When they had recovered, Matt sent telegrams to Beaver Falls, Oklahoma inquiring about a girl named Sarah who had worked at the Trails End Saloon, asking if anyone knew of her kin.

A reply came back that Sarah and her baby boy Jesse had died in a fire at the Trails End Saloon several years earlier. Bill the stagecoach driver, apparently had come to town only a few days before the fateful trip. No one knew of his family either.

In late January, Matthew Dillon turned in his badge. He and Kitty Russell were married a month later. They bought a small ranch ten miles from Dodge and began their life as a family with little Jesse.

There were many mysteries in connection to their trip home that couldn't be explained. Dr. Adams felt because they both had been injured, perhaps they had imagined or hallucinated much of what they claimed had occurred.

That spring Dillon along with Festus Hagen backtracked the trail the stagecoach took. They found the wreck, carcasses of the dead horses, but no human remains. "Most likely carried off by wild animals." Festus surmised.

Dillon had been informed the stagecoach stop at Schaefer's Crossing hadn't been used by the line in seven years, since the entire Schaefer family had been taken down with influenza. Matt said he would't believe it unless he saw it with his own eyes. With Festus at his side they rode up to the deserted way station. The windows were boarded. The barn was falling down, half the roof had caved in. Weather, wild animals and vagrants had left the inside of the snug home in sad disrepair. Certainly, the house had not been habitable for several years. Dillon looked around the shell of a once happy home. He shook his head in disbelief then turned to leave, but as he did he spied the closet under the stairs to the upper bedrooms. On impulse, he opened the door and there on the floor was the box of Christmas ornaments. Every piece packed so lovingly in anticipation of the next Christmas they would be used.

That the power of love is stronger than that of death has long been argued. Had an angel come down from heaven to secure a second chance for her baby? Certainly rational minds would argue it impossible and yet, those who believe know, prayers are answered in this world and the next.

The end


End file.
